


Your Father's Eyes

by Ethren



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Hogwarts Mystery
Genre: Angst, Battle of Hogwarts, Death Eater Merula, Death Eater x Order of the Phoenix member, F/M, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Shit this is going to be sad, Smut, one of them dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-06-29 17:36:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19835224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ethren/pseuds/Ethren
Summary: Five years after graduating, Merula Snyde finds Ethren - a full fledged member of the Order of the Phoenix. After learning she bears the Dark Mark, he sends her away - and meets her on the field of battle two years later at Hogwarts, the place where their lives began - and where their lives may end.





	1. Chapter 1

**1996 - 23 Years Old**

He was stirred from his sleep by the sound of someone rapping hard on the front of his door. He sat up, giving a yawn and a stretch, blinking around blearily. 2 AM. Who the hell was knocking on his door at 2 AM in the middle of the night? The rain pummeled against the windows as he drew on a shirt, grabbing his wand. Light bloomed at the tip as he made his way over towards the door, fingers curling around the wand. 

It could be an enemy. He, Talbott and Chiara....as members of the Order of the Phoenix, there were those who wished them dead. He had to be aware at all times. A voice reverberated in his memory. 

_ ‘CONSTANT VIGILANCE!!!’ _

No kidding. With a breath, he threw open the door....and his heart dropped into his stomach like a boulder, his blood running cold.

She stood in the merciless torrent of rain, her dark hair plastered to her face, makeup running down her cheeks. Her features were gaunt and sallow, skin ghostly white and lavender eyes were dull and tired with bags beneath them. 

“Merula,” the name wrenched from his chest in a painful way, stepping forward as if he could barely believe it was her. “You.... You’re back.”

“I’m back. Are you going to let me in.” 

Ethren stepped aside as she drifted past. She was clutching her right arm, dark sleeves pulled down all the way to her wrists as though it were in pain. She drew off her shawl. Dropped her wand on the table. Ethren stood in the open door, staring at her slack jawed. 

“Are you going to keep staring, or will you offer me a drink?”

Ethren stumbled forward, the door still open. “.....where have you been?”

“Around.”

“Merula...” he staggered over to the table, setting his hands down before he fell over. “You’ve been gone for five years. Ever since we graduated. I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Where....how...”

“Whitecross,” she sighs, glancing over. “Are you going to keep babbling, or can you close the door. It’s cold.”

He could scarcely feel himself moving as he pushed the door closed, the howling wind subsiding. Neither of them moved. Candle light curved around Merula as she stood, facing away from him, holding her arms. “....you’re wet,” he finally said, moving away. “Here.... let me get something.”

He returned shortly with a blanket, draping it around her shoulders and she nodded at him appreciatively, sitting down on the couch. He dropped down next to her.

Silence. Thunder boomed outside. “Well,” Merula says. “Considering you’re still alive, I’m guessing you managed to break your curse.”

“Yeah.” He couldn’t stop staring at her face, his hands resting in his lap. She looked bad. Unhealthy, even. She wouldn’t meet his eyes as she stared at her hands. They were clenched into fists, the nails digging into her palms. Those nails were once pristine with black polish and sharp enough to cut through flesh. Now they were dirty, cracked and unkept, like the rest of her. 

He brought his eyes up. “What’s happened to you.”

“Let’s just say this war affects more people than just the Order of the Phoenix, Whitecross.”

He straightens. “How do you-”

“I have my ways. That drink?”

He pushed up from the couch and into the kitchen. His mind was splintering as he drew two wine glasses from the cabinet. Merula was here. She knew he was a member of the Order. How? Did Talbott tell her? No. He’s never trusted her. There was silence save for the sound of red wine dribbling into the cups and when he returned, she took it gratefully from him, sipping delicately. 

His elbows were on his lap as he leaned forward and watched her. “You look like hell.”

“Always a charmer.”

“No, seriously you look...” he frowns. “Why are you here. You wouldn’t just...show up for no reason.”

“Who knows. Maybe I missed my high school sweetheart.”

“We were a lot of things. But I don’t think I could specify us as sweethearts.” 

She sighed, setting the glass down onto the coffee table and drew the blanket tighter around her. She didn’t answer for a long time. In the flickering candlelight she was a shadow beside him, eyes cold, body tense, like she was ready to spring. 

“You know that breakout.”

He knew immediately what she meant. The mass breakout, where several death eaters escaped from Azkaban. He gave a slow nod. 

“My parents escaped. They’re freed.”

It was like his breath was punched out of his chest. Her parents. He watched her carefully, eyes roaming across her features. “....have they made contact with you?”

“No.”

“Are you sure.” She didn’t answer. He scooted forward, grabbing her wrist and she tensed, but didn’t pull away. “Merula. They manipulated you for years. Put so much vile shit into your head. If they’ve contacted you-”

“I think I can handle myself,” she snaps quickly. He steeled himself against the acid, gripping tighter. 

“So then why are you here.”

“Maybe I just wanted someone to talk to.”

He highly doubted that. But slowly, his fingers uncurled and he leaned back against the couch. “....well, you know I’m here. So let’s....let’s talk then. What have you been up to, these last five years?”

“R.” His eyes narrowed as she leaned back next to him, could feel her shoulder brushing his. “I wanted to know where they came from. If there’s anymore. So I’ve been tracking down their movement up until the Cursed Vaults.”

“Sounds like you’ve been busy.”

“What about you, Whitecross.” She flicked his caramel hair. “Still look the same. Still act the same. If you’re not brooding over your waning lifespan, what have you been doing?”

“Reinstating the Whitecross name as a line of Curse Breakers,” he says, eyes twinkling as she played with his hair. He missed that. “After I broke my curse, I traveled. Came back here for the month to spend time with my family, and Jaxson.”

“Jaxson,” she purrs. “I’m fairly certain he doesn’t like me.”

“He doesn’t. He thinks you’re dangerous.”

“I am dangerous.” Her voice had an oddly detached tone to it that made his brows bump together. He hesitated, then twined their fingers together.

“No,” he says firmly, squeezing. “You’re not.”

“We haven’t seen each other in years, Whitecross. You don’t know me anymore.”

“I know your heart. I know you’re not a bad person.”

“My heart.” A dry laugh tumbled from between her lips as she reached forward towards her wine. “What romance novel did you pull that from?” she mutters, closing her eyes as she downed it until red dripped down the glass and stained her lips. 

He flushed. “None, thanks. I can be romantic.”

“Then be romantic.”

The demand was caught in the silence. He stared at her, jaw slightly ajar. “Excuse me?”

She glanced over, violet eyes flashing with a challenge. “Kiss me, if you’re so romantic.”

“I’m not kissing you. You’re right. I barely know you.” He grabbed their glasses, moving over towards the counter to set them down and turned to face her, leaning back against the edge. “What I do want to know is how you know I was a member of the Order of the Phoenix.”

“Tonks.”

His eyes flickered. Tonks... another member of the order, along with her new husband, Remus. He frowned. “Why would Tonks tell you that.” 

She flushes now, drawing her gaze away. “...I was looking for you, too,” she says. Her voice was tentative, barely brushing the air as she spoke with a whisper. “I couldn’t find you. But I did find her. She told me about you, and the missions you’ve been on.” She snorts. “Getting your dad to purchase muggle bombs to take out one of their hideouts....that was clever.”

“At least he’s good for something.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Did she tell you about Chiara and Talbott?”

“That apparently they’re engaged and waiting for the war to end to pop out a kid and pretend like nothing ever happened? Sure did. She also invited me to join your little club.”

“I take it you said no.”

“I was never one for team work.” She was standing now, and walking around his livingroom. Her eyes roamed over different artifacts up on shelves within glass containers. A black crystal with dark magic sputtering inside, from Romania. An idol of Anubis from Egypt. All objects he’s freed from the taint of dark magic. His eyes watched her every move, heart clenching in his chest. 

He stepped forward, taking her hand. She turned, mouth opening in surprise before he drew his thumb across her top of her hand. “I know there’s more bothering you than that,” he mutters. “Just... if you need anything..anything at all...  _ tell me.  _ I can help you, Merula.”

She stared at him. Her eyes flicked about, following his features, as though one day, she might forget them. She drew forward, and he closed his eyes, relaxing as her fingers drifted down his cheek. “Anything?”

“Anything.”

“Would you kill for me.”

His muscles immediately tensed. Eyes snapped open, locking on her. He couldn’t answer. His voice was locked in his throat and she gave a wry chuckle, shaking her head. “No. You wouldn’t. You’re a good person...even faced with Rakepick, you couldn’t do it...” her eyes dropped. “It’s always been the difference between you and me. You always know what’s...right.”

“So do you.”

She shook her head. She lifted her hand, pressing it on his chest, fingers fanning out and closed her eyes. Her fingers vibrated under the steady beating of his heart. They stayed that way for a long while, the only sound being the thunder rumbling outside and rain tearing down against the glass. “I’m glad you’re not dead.” Her whisper stirred the silence. “Part of me didn’t...want to know.” 

They were so close. Somehow, his back had ended up against the wall. No light, except for the flickering candle and the streaks of lightning outside. No sound, except for that of his breath. He was so sure she could hear his heart hammering against. He couldn’t see them, but he knew they were there, the freckles on her nose, the mole on her neck, the birthmark on her shoulder. 

His hands cupped her face. Violet eyes flicked up to his, thumb drawing against her cheek. “I’m glad I’m not dead too,” he whispered. 

She surged forward, lips pressing into his as she knocked against him. His spine was pressed to the wall, closing his eyes as he pulled the girl into him. He could feel her fingers curving into locks of caramel hair. His hands curled around her waist, pulling her close - and the hiss of clothes being drawn down echoing into the darkness. 

He sat up in bed, watching her sleeping frame. Her bare back rippled from the candlelight and glowed in locks of dark brown hair. He reached forward, twirling a lock around his finger. He remembered what he’d told her, while they were together. 

_ When this war is over, find me. Let’s start over. _

It was all he wanted now. This stupid, complicated, malicious girl...why did he have to fall in love with someone who was so difficult. He sighed, leaning over, about to put out the candle - when he spotted something, along her forearm. He frowned, cocking his head as he examined it. It looked like a....mark of some kind. He hadn’t noticed it before, while it was dark and with rampant distractions. 

Did she get a tattoo..? She didn’t seem the type. He took her arm, drawing over towards her, rolled it over....

He dropped her hand as though he'd been burned. He reared back, gasping, like he was choking on smoke. He was off the bed and stumbling backwards into the middle of the room. No. There was no way.... She  _ wouldn’t.  _

The motion had Merula stirring. Tired, lavender eyes opened and she yawned, turning over to watch him. “Ethren?” she asks sleepily, rubbing her eyes, squinting. “What are you doing?”

“What the hell is that.”

“What the hell is.... What.”

He stalked forward. Her eyes widened with shock as he grabbed her forearm, wrenching it up.  _ “This!”  _ He snarls, fingers grasped around the morbid symbol of a snake sliding out of a skull. “Tell me this isn’t what I think it is.” She didn’t answer. She was looking away, limp brown hair veiling her features. He grit his teeth.  _ “Tell me!” _

“What do you want me to tell you?!” Merula shouted, snapping her gaze back over to him. “That I’m no different from my parents?! That your brother was right about me all along?!”

Ethren dropped her arm, pushing away from the bed as he stumbled to his feet. His fingers were tearing through his hair, chest heaving as he struggled to contain himself. “You have the Dark Mark.” The words pushed out of him, as though he were forcing himself to believe them.

“I don’t know why you expected any different.”

He didn’t trust his voice. He staggered over towards the window, throwing out his forearm to the glass, lips drawn back into a snarl. Merula was standing up in the corner of his vision, blankets around her shoulders. “I can’t disobey my parents.”

“Yes. You could have. You had every opportunity to, I...” his fingers curled into a fist. “I would have given you every reason not to.”

“But you didn’t. So be angry all you want, it doesn’t-”

“I’m not angry.”

“Oh please, you’re over there looking like you want to rip my head off.”

“I’m not, I...I’m..” a strangled breath was wrenched from his chest. “I’m fucking  _ heartbroken _ .” 

Neither of them dared to stir the silence. Merula lingered behind him like a shadow as his forehead was pressed to the cold glass of the window. His bare back was a line of tension. Until a weary chuckle pushed past his lips. “So what now,” he mutters. “You’re a Death Eater. I’m of the Order of the Phoenix. Aren’t you supposed to kill me.”

“Probably. But I’ve never been good at following orders.” He can hear her approach. “You’re on the wrong side of this war, Whitecross. And when it’s over-”

“Get out.”

She went quiet. He could feel her eyes stabbing the back of his head. “You should-”

“I said  _ get out! _ ” He roared, spinning around - wand materializing in hand, pointed directly at her. Her eyes went wide, looking down the length of ebony to his trembling hand, his lip curled back into a snarl. “Put on your clothes,” he whispers, a tremble to his voice. “Get your things....and leave. Now.”

She didn’t move for a long while. Then, her feet carried her forward, the blanket falling from her shoulders - utterly vulnerable until the wand was pressing into the center of her chest. “What will you do,” she whispered, her voice low. “You couldn’t kill Rakepick. You couldn’t kill me.” Her eyes narrowed. “...it’s always made you weak. And it’ll get you killed one day.”

Without another word, she swept out of the room. The door hadn't even closed before Ethren sank to his knees, a sob tearing from between his lips, face in his hands and heart splintering in his chest. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jaxson = Jacob

[ ambience 1 ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uoa9dS0z64M&t=1289s)

[ ambience 2 ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RcWBXbL8Lfk) (u can listen to both of these at the same time while reading for the full affect)

**1998 - 25 YEARS OLD**

Explosions of blue tore across the sky as the shield conjured over Hogwarts withstood the might of a thousand Death Eaters. Every spell that they cast crackled against the shield, ripping across its surface and hummed in Ethren’s chest. His fingers gripped the railing atop the Owlery, gritting his teeth. 

It was time. 

“Who knew the end of the world would be so beautiful?” 

Ethren turned looked back. Jaxson was approaching from behind. Like Ethren, he sported a silver phoenix brooch atop his cloak. He pulled his black hood down, dark auburn hair drawn back behind his head. His teal eyes normally alit with mischief were now serious, standing beside his brother as the two observed armageddon. Beyond that shield was the army that has come to destroy their loved ones and home. “Beautiful?” Ethren muttered, glancing up into the sky. Another onslaught of spells pummeled the northern side of the shield, thundering with energy as the shield stopped them. “I guess you could say that.” 

“I told you to stay home.”

“And I told you not to tell me what to do.”

“You could die.”

“Consider me used to the concept of waning mortality.”

Jaxson snorts, giving a wry grin. “So you’re telling me that after two decades of trying to keep your skinny ass alive, you’re just going to waltz into a warzone.”

“Yeah. Basically.”

Their gaze turned upwards. The bursts of blue from the deteriorating shield above reflected in their eyes. From above, they could see everything. The lines of stone soldiers mounted on the bridge. Harry Potter was out there somewhere, trying to find the last horcruxes to destroy them. The courtyard filled with combatants, waiting for the Death Eaters to break through…..Chiara and Talbott would be down there. Summer. Skylar. Tonks. Kaina and Idmon. And on the other side of that shield, somewhere in the darkness of the forest….

He curled his fingers around the railing and drew a sharp breath. No. He couldn’t think about that right now. 

“You know you might have to do it.” 

Ethren jolted, looking up to his brother. Jaxson was gazing out over the castle grounds, his features unreadable as he leaned against the railing. 

“…do what?” Ethren asked slowly and his brother’s eyes drifted over to him, a sad smile drawing over his features. 

“Face her.”

The breath was knocked from Ethren’s lungs. Damn it. How the hell could he always just read his mind like that…oh right. Legilimen. His fingers trembled as they coiled around the railing, tighter, knuckles turning white. “….she’s not the person that I knew,” he said finally, reciting the words that he’s been telling himself for two years. “The only thing that matters is fighting for the Order and defeating Voldemort. Nothing else.”

“You ready for this?” 

Ready? No. They’d trained for it. Prepared. He’d clasped Tonk’s hand and told her good luck. Threw his arms around the shoulders of his best friends, and told them he’d meet them on the battlefield. But… Ethren shut his eyes, turning his face towards the sky. He could feel the wind on his face, could hear the reverberating sounds of battle in the distance. “I don’t think anyone could ever be ready for something like this.”

“People are going to die…people we know, Ethren.”

“I know.”

“Not you.”

Ethren frowned, looking over to his brother. His features had grown…. Almost cold as he stared at the shield. His wand was clenched in his fist. The laughter that he pushed from between his lips was dry and didn’t meet his eyes. “You don’t get to escape a fatal curse and then become part of some body count after this is over.”

The edge of Ethren’s lip lifted. “And you don’t get to disappear for five years and then wind up dead,” he retaliated, knocking his shoulder against his brother’s. “Come on, Jax. After dragons, dementors, R and who knows what else….we’ll make it through this.” 

Jaxson didn’t say anything for a moment. Then he surged forward, grabbing Ethren’s cloak and wrenched him forward, closing his arms around him. Ethren stilled in the embrace of his brother, then a shudder coursed through him, wrapping his arms around Jax. “We’ll make it through this,” Jaxson whispered in his ear, echoing his brother’s words, gripping tighter.

Until a flash in the distance caught their attention. Pulling away, they watched as a streak of green light jet forward, slamming against the shield, breaking it apart. Ethren felt his lips curl backwards into a snarl, drawing his wand. 

There was only one man capable of casting a spell with that much power. 

The shield started to change colour. Morphing from a light blue to a dark crimson as flaming, frayed bits of magical essence began to flutter down from the sky like burning leaves. The shield was coming apart. 

Jaxson gave a breath. “…it’s time.”

In the midst of battle, Ethren could barely find the time to breathe. A jet of green was blasting towards him, his eyes widening in a panic as he tore to the side behind one of the courtyard statues, the spell missing him only by an inch as it flew past his ear. With a snarl, he pulled back into view, pointing his wand, the curse bursting soundlessly from the tip of his wand, striking the Death Eater in the chest and sending him flying into the fountain, splashing out of view. 

There was chaos. There was blood. There were broken figures beneath his feet as he sprinted through the courtyard, ducking down as a giant’s club flew over his head, crashing into one of the pillars holding up the courtyard’s outer aisle, stone tumbling down. There was no direction and no organization in the middle of battle. Just a desperate conflict of kill or be killed. 

He was trying to find them. A panic was seizing his chest as he turned frantically, wand clenched in his blood fingers - then he spotted them. Talbott and Chiara, standing in the center of a ring of death eaters surrounding them. They were back to back, hands bound together while the others clutched their wands, deflecting and sending spells back at their foes. 

And from above them, crawling along the edge of the wall towards them unnoticed - acromantulas. 

Ethren’s feet were a blur beneath him as he raced forwards. _“Arania Exumai!”_ The silver spell blasted into the spiders, sending them flying and skittering away, his voice catching their attention as they turned. 

“Ethren!” Chiara shouted. Her silvery hair was drawn back behind her head and with a shout, disarmed a Death Eater while Talbott struck him in the chest with a hex, knocking him against a wall, unconscious. 

The three of them fended off the rest of the Death Eaters and panting, Ethren stumbled over. His legs trembled beneath him in exhaustion. “What news?” He pants, hands on his knees as he gathered his breath. 

“Harry Potter is searching for the Diadem,” Chiara said, blasting away another spider that was trying to get the jump on them and Talbott grit his teeth, swiping the back of his hand across his forehead.

“I can’t believe we’re putting the fate of this whole battle in the hands of some kid,” he mutters and Ethren glances over. 

“He’s the only option we have,” he says. “We just need to give him the one chance he needs. Until then….” he drew his eyes up. A new wave of enemies had entered into the courtyard. More death eaters, werewolves - and smashing through the courtyard wall, a giant. Ethren paled. “Break time’s over.” 

Chiara and Talbott raced forward, Chiara whistling and at her side bounded a dozen wolves as they raced towards the lycanthropes - the pack that lived in Hogwarts forest and in a burst of silver fur, Chiara lunged against them as her lover defended her, red spells bursting from his wand towards the giant, distracting him. 

And Ethren went for the Death Eaters.

“ _Stupefy_!” He shouts, a flick of wand sending one of them flying backwards, the other three skidding to a stop. Three curses flew towards him, and he rolled to the side, coming up on one knee and conjured a shield in front of him, a hex deflecting off, striking another death eater instead. One of the Death Eater’s raised his wand, and the first word of the killing curse left his mouth before a feathered arrow pierced through his skull and he dropped like a rock, a herd of centaurs tearing through the courtyard. 

Utter mayhem. Ethren’s ears were ringing as he stumbled to his feet. He was about to try to find his friends again - when a spell hit him in the back. A hex that sent him flying forward, his face hitting mud and he choked, pushing himself up. 

A masked mage was on the other side of the courtyard, glaring him down, wand up and at the ready. Their dark death eater robes rippled in the wind - a spell leaving both of their wands simultaneously. Their spells collided in a flash of light and power that send them both stumbling back and Ethren snarled. “ _Expulso_!” He shouted. 

There was an explosion at the death eater’s feet, sending them blasting backwards into the wall, mask splintering and falling into pieces. They were stunned against the wall, Ethren surging forward, skidding to his knees, grabbing their collar and slammed the Death Eater’s head against the wall with a sickening crack. He lifted his wand to their throat, ready to cast a killing blow - when he stopped. He could hear nothing. Not the burst of flames as there was an explosion behind him. Not the screams and sounds of war that echoed through the courtyard. Nothing but the blood rushing through his head as the Death Eater lifted her gaze, lavender eyes meeting his.

There was blood in the woman’s hair as she regarded him coldly, eyes flicking down to the fist coiled around her robes. A dry chuckle pushed past her lips. “Well,” Merula says. “Maybe you do have it in you.” Her gaze flicked up. “Do it, then.”

Ethren couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe. His wand was locked underneath her throat. 

Freckles….there were freckles on her nose….he snapped out of it as realization cracked against him like a hammer. No. No. The wand clattered from his grasp. He grabbed her face, tears springing into his eyes. “ _Why did you come here?!”_

“Just like you, Whitecross. End of the line.” He didn’t see the wave of her wand. Not until the red jet of energy was blasting into his chest, knocking him off and onto his back. There was a ringing in his ears. It wasn’t the sound of her voice but the movement of her lips that had him springing to the side, the ground exploding where he’d once been leaving a smoldering crater. 

He stumbled to his feet. The world was crumbling at his feet. Tears sprang to his eyes as a snarl tore from his throat. _“You said you’d changed,”_ he screams. Molten rage ignited his every nerve. A jet of light shot from his wand. With a mere flick of Merula’s, it dissipated. _“You said you wouldn’t be like them.”_ Another blast of light - followed by another and another. _“You promised!”_

“I lied!” She shouted back, gritting her teeth. “Don’t you get it, Whitecross? I’ve always been like this. People can’t change, I _told you that night._ ” 

She struck back. He deflected the blasting curse with a wave of his wand. They’d sparred so many times, he could do it practically by second nature now. “You never tried!” Resentment coiled in Ethren’s stomach. “You had every opportunity. I gave you every opportunity and you _threw it away!”_

“I never asked for you to save me!” 

Fury tore through him. With a roar, he leveled his wand at her. The curse fired from the edge, hurtling towards her - colliding with her own spell with a clash of light that ruptured with a brilliant glow of red and green. In the clashing colours he could see her face. Could see the freckles on her nose. Could see the weariness of her aged features. Could see the tears pricking at her eyes.

The spell shattered in shards of energy that had them stumbling backwards. Spell after spell. Splinters and shatters of magic that crackled like bombs in the courtyard. Soon, they were both exhausted. Their fingers trembled. They gulped for air greedily, shoulders heaving. 

_Was this what you wanted, Merula._

_This carnage, this destruction, this death._

_Was this the only future for us?_

Merula looked ready to faint. He could see the quiver of her legs. The sweat dripping down her face. When had this woman looked so beaten, so broken. 

It wasn’t always like that. There was a time those eyes were filled with life. Ready to take on the world. A voice that echoed, somewhere in a deep memory he’d once thought he’d buried. 

_Maybe it’s written in the stars._

The wand clattered from his fingers and rolled across the courtyard stone. Merula’s brows bumped together in suspicion, lifting her wand higher. “Do it then.” The words pushed out of his lips in a whisper. The same she’d told him, one stormy night.

Something in her eyes wavered. Was it hesitation? He’d never know. Because at that moment, a voice shouted behind him. “There! One of the Order, kill him!”

He turned. He could see the malicious curse being shouted. Could see the jet of light flaring through the dark as it seeked him out. 

Ethren closed his eyes. But death never came. Merula had leapt in front of him. 

_“Avada Kedavra!”_ The two spells clashed in a display of a viridian radiance that burst outwards. Merula’s jaw slid forward, twisting her wand like she were pushing a dagger further into someone’s heart. The man’s spell shattered and Merula’s charged forwards, striking the Death Eater in the chest and he crumbled to the ground. 

“ _Snyde_! What is the meaning of-” he was cut off. A curse had touched his throat, one that had vines coiling, constricting, choking and he went to his knees. The last Death Eater ran. He made it two steps before a stray swing of a giant’s club shattered his body, sending him flattened against the courtyard wall.

It was the end of all things. The heavens coming down as the shield withered and fluttered down like charred bits of paper. Blood beneath his boots. Dead men. Dead women. Dead faces. But none of it mattered. He stared at her. Straight as a spear stabbing the sky. 

And when she met his eyes, he felt something burn in his chest. A feeling he’d abandoned, for it betrayed him long ago. Hope. 

Until he saw the centaurs behind her. They didn’t think twice. They caught sight of her dark death eater robes, and the string of a bow was nocked back to the centaur’s ear. 

His feet moved without thought. Merula’s eyes widened as he grabbed her shoulder, tearing her behind him. The tip of the arrow cut through muscle. Wove between the fingers of his ribs. And pushed at last through his heart. 

Ethren’s legs crumbled beneath him, yet his body didn’t hit the ground. Arms had caught him, hugging tightly. Something splashed against his cheeks. Tears. The world swam above him, his eyes tearing upwards. Merula’s face was bowed over his, twisted in grief, and fury. Her fingers curved into his robes tight, nails piercing into skin. He couldn’t hear her. He could only read her lips, as she said his name, over and over again. 

He could taste blood in his mouth. It filled his lungs, strangling the words he tried so desperately to say. _Please._ Darkness clouded his vision. _Not yet._ The sounds of battle faded away into a soft ringing in his ears. _I love you._

As the curse breaker slipped away, the smell of smoke eased into something familiar.

Something elusive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ethren's canon death.


	3. Art (Death warning?)

I've been busy with some other HPHM writing so here is a quick thing with some art from the last chapter.

Art was from an art trade with <https://kuzmich-isterich.tumblr.com/post/186657909700/what-a-wonderful-hour-to-read-this-chapter-by>


	4. Chapter 4

Eyes. Lifeless eyes stared everywhere. Unblinking, unmoving. The smell of smoke and sulfur and ash was thick in Jax’s lungs and he gave a ragged cough around the tar-like substance clinging to his ribs. He’d been there when Voldemort had fallen. Had watched as he dropped so unceremoniously to the ground. He’d expected something... different. Perhaps twisting into some horrific beast, then crumbling to ash and bone. But no.... he simply died like any other man. 

And as soon as he was dead.... Jaxson was tearing off into the carnage that war had left in the wake of the Battle of Hogwarts.

He saw some people he knew. Lau King unconscious, leg blown off and Barnaby sitting beside him, face ashen. Jacob Nightclaw, leaning up against his sister, Uriel, as they recovered from battle. Flitwick drawing the sheet up over the corpse of someone. He didn’t want to know who was under there. He didn’t care. Jaxson jumped up on some rubble and cupped his hands.  _ “ETHREN!”  _ he shouted, his voice echoing out over the ruined grounds.  _ “Ethren! _ Ethren, where are you!”

Damn it. He slid down, his heart hammering in his chest. He had to find him. He had to be here somewhere.

He ended up picking his way into the Great Hall. His purposed stride slowed to a stop and he felt his stomach twist. There was an almost sepulchral silence, like the quiet of a cemetery before a body meets the earth. He saw the bodies lined up. Too many of them. Some of them adults, and others....smaller, covered in white sheets. 

Then he saw a flash of pink. A young woman, gripping the hand of her newly betrothed...Tonks...one of Ethren’s friends. 

Hell... did he know already? Jaxson wasn’t ready to be the bearer of bad news.

He skidded to a stop as he spotted two people across the length of the hall. Skylar and Summer. Skylar was drawing a cloth over the body of a deceased student, Summer consoling their grieving friend.

“Skylar, Summer,” he said, approaching with a jog. “Have you two seen Ethren?”

Their gazes both snapped up. And they looked....pained. He felt his heart sink. “What is it?" he dared to ask as they glanced at one another. 

An unspoken agreement seemed to pass over the two before Skylar looked back up to Jax, his eyes pitying. “....he’s in the Courtyard. Towards the back.”

“What’s happened. Is he all right?”

Summer bit her lip, pushing silvery hair behind her ear. Her eyes were stained red. “I think you should see him for yourself.” 

No. Was he hurt? He took off without another thought, a walk turning into a jog and then a sprint as he tore out into the halls. The castle was utterly destroyed. Walls had crumbled in, rubble had been pushed to the sides. Everyone was injured in some way another, with arms in slings, scrapes and bruises, missing limbs. Everyone looked.....tired. Exhausted. 

His heart was thundering in his chest. 

Where is he....where is Ethren.

He made his way out onto the courtyard, stumbling to a stop where it seemed the destruction was most prominent. Fires still burned in the corners of his vision. Pillars had toppled over. The fountain was in shatters, the statues of eagles holding snakes in their mouths in pieces across the charred ground. “Ethren!” Jax shouted, cupping his hands as he moved through the chaos. 

Towards the back, his heart clenched. He spotted a group of people kneeling on the ground, facing away from him. Kaina Malin, who’d acted as a healer during the battle. Talbott and Chiara and....

“Idmon,” Jaxson breathed out, his eyes welling with tears. Idmon Malin. His boyfriend was leaning wearily against his sister and turned, his eyes tired as Jaxson approached. Immediately, his features fell and the man willed himself to stand. 

“Jaxson,” he choked, a couple stumbles sending him into Jaxson’s arms. Jaxson embraced him tight, pulling him fiercely to his chest. He hadn’t seen him during the battle... hadn’t known if he was alive or dead. 

When Jaxson finally pulled away, he gripped Idmon’s shoulders, steadying him. “Id,” he says, his voice tight. “Have you seen my brother anywhere? I have to find him...”

Idmon didn’t answer. His lips wobbled as he suddenly gripped Jax’s hands tight. So tight it nearly hurt, his knuckles white. “Jax,” he pushes out, a tear slipping down his face. “Listen to me...”

“Idmon.” Jax’s voice had lowered. “Where is he.”

“Jaxson.” Talbott was approaching now, his eyes hard, tinted with red as he rest a hand on Jaxson’s shoulder. “I need you to stay calm.”

“Stay calm?!” Jaxson snarled, tearing his shoulder away. “The hell do you mean stay calm? I need to find...”

Then he saw it. 

The covered form behind Talbott. He could see Chiara hovering over, weeping, tears slipping between her hands. He saw Kaina crouching nearby, looking defeated, exhausted. And Idmon....Idmon’s eyes looked ready to shatter as he watched Jax. 

“Who is that.” 

“Jax,  _ please.... _ ”

He shouldered Idmon out of the way. Tried to tear away from Talbott only for the man to tighten his grip on his arm. “Jaxson, you have to—"

Jaxson’s fist smashed into Talbott’s face with a crack and he stumbled away, holding his nose as blood seeped through his fingers. Jaxson marched over towards the body. His blood felt cold. His eyes were locked on the too still figure beneath the cloth.

No. It can’t be. 

He promised.

His knees hit into the ground. And in one fluid moment — tore back the sheet.

The ground shattered beneath him. The sky split in two and all around him, people evaporated into wisps of smoke in his vision. Leaving him trapped in this one, singular moment. 

He was pale. His features were covered in ash, dirt and blood, caramel hair tousled. And his black and silver Order uniform.... It was dried with blood, having oozed from a hole in his chest. 

Jaxson stared. He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. “... Ethren.” He shook his shoulders. “Ethren… stop screwing around. Get up.” His brother’s head bounced lifelessly. “Ethren.  _ Ethren.”  _

“Jax,” Kaina managed to push out, trying to reach for him - and he smacked her hand away.

“ _ No.  _ Ethren,  _ please.”  _ Tears slipped from his eyes.  _ Please, no.  _

His little brother didn’t stir. Didn’t move. His face was turned to the side slightly, a massive black and blue bruise stretching across the right side of his cheek. He didn’t look peaceful, like he’d just fallen asleep.... He looked ugly. He looked broken. 

He looked fucking dead.

The colour drained from Jax’s face.  _ “No.”  _ The single word fell from his lips, grabbing Ethren’s robes and ripped him into his arms. Embraced him, cradled him. Held him as a wellspring of tears erupted from his eyes until all he could hear was the sound of his own sobs. 

Their last conversation rang in his ears. 

_ We’ll make it through this. _

He was too late. 

His cries turned his sobs. His sobs into wails. And soon, anguished screams ripped from his lungs as he held Ethren into his chest, pushing his lips into the man’s hair. He didn’t see Idmon behind him, covering his mouth to stop his own grief. Chiara had her face pressed into Talbott’s chest as her husband comforted her. And Kaina, always one to distract herself, stumbled to her feet, muttering something about how she needed to help the others and walked away numbly. 

Jaxson was still holding Ethren by the time he finally spoke. He pushed his brother’s hair back, tidying him with trembling fingers, brushing the dirt from his pallid features.

“How did it happen.”

Talbott grimaced. 

“...Merula.”

Eyes cold with fury snapped over to Talbott. “Did she kill him.”

“No,” Talbott murmured. “But...” he hesitated and Chiara sniffed, looking over to Jaxson. 

“He died for her.”

“Where is she.”

“Jax,” Idmon tried, scooting forward, shaking fingers grabbing at his boyfriend’s robes. “What are you planning.”

“I’m going to fucking kill her.”

Idmon’s eyes widened. He scrambled for Jaxson’s shoulder now “No, Jax,” he whispered. “You can’t...it’ll destroy you.”

“Destroy me?” A broken laugh pushed past Jaxson’s lips. He felt utterly hollow. “How much more broken can I get, Id.” He looks to Talbott now. “Where. Is. She.” There was no warmth in his voice. Only the hate that ripped through him.

A hate that Talbott understood all too well. “....she was captured by the Order,” he says. “She’s being held in the astronomy tower until she can be transferred.”

“Transferred where.”

“To Azkaban. She just... gave herself up.”

Jaxson nodded slowly. “All of you....go.”

They didn’t argue. Talbott helped Chiara to her feet, and she stifled her sobs as he lead her away. Idmon gave him one last, pitying look. He wanted to stop him. Wanted to tell him no...but he never could. He could only walk away helplessly, leaving Jaxson to his own self destruction.

Jaxson was now alone. A shaky breath tumbled from him as he kissed Ethren’s hair once more, before lowering him to the ground. His hand was beneath his brother’s head, cushioning him as he set the boy delicately down. Tender, as though he could break at any moment.

He clasped his brother’s hands together, and took one more look at his face — drinking in every feature — before he pulled the sheet back over him, and bowed forward until his forehead touched Ethren’s chest. 

“I’m sorry,” Jax whispers hoarsely. “I’m so… so sorry...”

I’m sorry… what the hell was a sorry going to do. Ethren was dead. He’d never be able to speak with his brother again. Never hold him or clasp him on the back or argue with him again. He was gone. 

It was like a pit of fire in his chest. One that burned hotter and hotter, consuming the grief. Consuming the pain. Burned it all away… until there was nothing but hate. It coiled in his stomach, immobilized him. Jason’s lips curled back in a snarl, his fingers curving tight into the sheet. If Ethren was going down.... So was she. 

He tore to his feet, away from his brother and towards the astronomy tower.

It took only moments to reach the top. A member of the Order guarded it, looking over towards Jaxson as he came up around the stairs. “Hey, you can’t—"

A flick of Jaxson’s wand and the wizard was blasted against the wall, head cracking with stone as he slumped onto the stairs, unmoving. Jaxson stepped over his body, touching his wand to the lock.  _ “Alohomora.” _

The door unlocked with a click and Jaxson shouldered through.

The room was dark, save for starlight coming in through the open window. Constellations glittered across the ceiling, and sitting in the back, next to the large telescope directed towards the sky.... was Merula. Her robes were in tatters. Dark, messy long hair went nearly to her waist. And when she looked up at him, hands bound behind her back, her eyes were dull. “Whitecross,” she murmurs. “I can only guess why you’re here.”

“You killed him.” His voice was low as he closed the door behind him. He walked towards her, black boots bloodied from the battlefield clicking against the floor. 

She gave a tired shrug. “Technically he killed himself. I didn’t ask him to jump in front of that arrow.”

Jaxson’s jaw slid forward. He was directly in front of her, clenching and unclenching his fists. His wand sparked red. “You didn’t deserve it.” He lowered into a crouch. His eyes were tinted red, and lifted the tip until it touched under her chin. She barely reacted. “You should be the one dead under some sheet. Not him.”

“Yeah,” Merula said, her voice hollow. “Well life has a funny way of dealing out karma.” She glanced down. “You gonna use that or what.”

Jaxson’s eyes flickered. Scarred, calloused fingers rolled across the wood. “They’re going to send you to Azkaban. I’d pity the fact that they fired the dementors and spared you that fate, but to be honest, they would have seen you only to be starved. You have no soul.”

“There’s something we can agree on.”

His wand shuddered in his grasp. He bit down the chaos of his rage. If he let go for even a moment, he had no doubt she’d be convulsing on the ground, pulsating with the crimson light of the cruciatus curse. Or perhaps even just simply dead, as lifeless as her lover below. 

He wanted to. God, he wanted to so badly. Tears streamed from his face as he pushed the wand further against her throat, pressing into pale skin. “You betrayed him,” he choked, gritting his teeth. “He would have given  _ everything _ for you.”

“I know he would have. It’s why I left him.”

“It wasn’t enough. He’s dead.” His jaw slid forward. “He’s fucking  _ dead  _ and it’s  _ all your fault!”  _ He slashed his hand through the air, blasting a table into pieces as raw anger oozed out from him in the form of violent magic.

“You didn’t deserve him.” His eyes turned to shards of ice. “And you certainly don’t deserve to live.” He stood, pointing his wand at her.

She didn’t react. Merely looked down the length of his wand and exhaled, closing her eyes. “Go on, then.”

Black mist curled from the tip of his wand, roping around Jaxson’s arm as it responded to his anger and with a roar, cast the deadly curse.

And the shackles around her wrists fell listlessly to the ground.

She stared at her freed wrists, eyes wide. Then tore her eyes up to Jaxson, searching him. “... why?” she hissed. 

“Because I won’t let my brother die in vain. He sacrificed himself for you. So I’m giving you one chance to escape.” His fist grabbed her collar, wrenching her to her feet. He pulled her close, so close his warm breath rolled over her lips, eyes burning with cold fury. “... but it is your only chance. If I  _ ever _ see you again...” He let the threat hang, releasing the girl and she stumbled back.

“Noted.” She stepped towards the open balcony looking out over the school grounds. She stepped up onto the railing. Looked out over the horizon. Her dark Death Eater clothes rippling in the wind. “... I need you to do something.”

Jaxson sneered, folding his arms. “First you take my brother. Then you need my help. Damn, you’re an audacious bitch.”

“It’s important.” She pauses. “668 Elm Street, Harefield. There’s something there that I need you to tend to… to look after.”

“Yeah? And what’s that.”

Lavender eyes turned on Jaxson’s now. Tears cascaded down her cheeks, crushed with despair. “Your nephew.”

He was utterly still, even as her body dissolved into wisps of smoke and vanished into the night. The strength left him almost instantly, crumbling to his knees. He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Her words reverberated in his skull, pounding painfully like a drum. His nephew.

_ Ethren had a son. _


	5. Chapter 5

[ **TUMBLR VERSION IS HERE** ](https://hogwartsmysterystory.tumblr.com/post/185775586505/table-of-contents-year-1-chapter-1-the-journey)

**1998**

No one found Merula Snyde after she vanished mysteriously from the Battle of Hogwarts.

The guard that had been watching over her claimed that a Death Eater had knocked him unconscious, and that the two had fled. The lie cost Jaxson fifty galleons. 

A day after the Battle of Hogwarts, there was a service to honor the dead before bodies were taken all across the country, to be buried among family and at their homes. Others directly on Hogwarts grounds, for those who knew no other home. 

Chiara and Talbott offered to take Ethren back to America, to be buried along the white shores of Lake Michigan. Jaxson apologized for being unable to help them, but he had something important he had to do. And without another word, apparated and was gone, disappearing from the school grounds and landed heavily on his feet on Elm Street, Harefield. 

Jaxson wasn’t exactly sure what he’d been expecting. He had anticipated a ghost town. Boarded up windows or dark wizards stalking every corner of the street. 

It wasn’t anything of the sort. Harefield was a pleasant little village tucked onto the east side of a river. The streets were small and made of cobblestone with gardens and lovely fences flanking them. The homes were old and small cottages, with smoke curling from traditional brick chimneys, gardens overflowing with flowers. Certainly not a place a death eater woman and her son would be hiding out. 

He gripped his wand in his pocket, rolling his fingers over the Hornbeam wood as teal eyes flicked from house to house. 

_668....668..._

He stopped someone, an older woman carrying a basket of laundry. “Excuse me,” he says, approaching. “Could you tell me where 668 is?”

She directed him further down the road and he was off. 

The street curved upwards into the forest - and 668 was the last house on the road. Tucked away in the woods, the address was covered in moss, morning glory and vines roping and wrapping its way up the brick and grey stone foundation. It was small, just small enough for a single person.... For a single mom. 

Jaxson drew his wand and tried the knob. Locked. He exhaled, pressing the tip to the door. _“Alohomora.”_

 _Click_ . It swung open and Jaxson hesitated only once before he slid inside, the end of his wand blooming with light as he cast _lumos maxima,_ the entirety of the room illuminating. 

It was immediately apparent that the home had only been used sparingly. Perhaps as a base of operations, or a safe house. A thick layer of dust covered every surface, the brown sofa moth eaten and in the corners, cobwebs stretched from wall to wall. 

He took one step into the house - when there was a hiss right at his feet. A cat, black with green eyes, fur raised and it startled him into stumbling backwards several feet, knocking a picture off a shelf and it shattered against the floor. 

“Bloody… get away!” He snapped at the cat, waving his hand and it bounded down the hall. His eyes traveled downwards… and his heart sank, reaching down to delicately take the photo from the shards of glass.

It trembled slightly in his hands. It had been a picture of Ethren and Merula. The Celestial Ball at 15 years old. Ethren shuffled in front of the courtyard fountain, an arm eased awkwardly around his date’s waist. Jaxson smiled grimly. Dumb kid didn’t look like he knew whether to smile or frown, resulting in an unpleasant grimace. And Merula….

As soon as Jaxson’s eyes landed on Merula, that familiar tarpit of anger was heating in his stomach. He tore his gaze away, slipping the picture into his pocket and lifted his wand to look down the halls. Where was he…

Then he heard it. 

First…. The sound of sniffles. 

Then crying, echoing down the hall, coming from the left room where warm light spilled from within, the door cracked a bit. 

Jaxson’s feet felt frozen into the ground. His entire body was stiff, as though under an _immobulus_ curse. The crying echoed off the walls in a haunting manner and he swallowed the dry lump in his throat, pushing himself forward. Every step he took felt numb as he came closer to the door, his wand quivering violently in hand. The crying was like knives in his head, stabbing into his brain. 

He used his toe to nudge open the door. 

A nursery. It was painted black and blue, the walls dark and contrasting against the baby blue crib in the corner and blue curtains drawn over the window, save for one side that allowed golden sunlight to shine through and illuminate the room. There was a lovely lullaby emanating from a crib mobile that slowly turned over the crib - a snitch, a unicorn and an owl rotating overhead.

The crying continued.

Just only several paces away. 

Jaxson could feel his blood pounding in his head. His boots felt like they weighed a hundred pounds and slowly, ever slowly, he pushed himself into the room. He loomed over the crib peering inside, and his legs nearly gave out underneath him. 

A baby lay in the crib. Perhaps a year and a half old. His hair was a dark brown, messy and tangled with a tuft of blonde near his bangs. His skin was tanned, a spray of freckles across his nose. He was crying. Sobbing. He thrashed around in bed, crying out for his mother. 

No. This couldn’t be his nephew. He couldn’t see his brother anywhere in this kid, save for being tan but…. Come on. That could be anyone. Must have been a mistake. 

Every instinct screamed at him to leave. He turned to go. He’d just tell one of the women here that there as a baby abandoned in this house. He’d be looked after, then he could go home and forget this ever happ-

The baby opened his eyes. 

Jaxson’s breath pushed out of him in a painful way, stumbled and caught himself on a nearby dresser. His eyes…. They were a light teal. 

Ethren. 

Those were Ethren’s eyes. 

He forced down the overwhelming sensations that were rushing through him, trembling hands reaching down into the crib. “Shh, shh,” The man soothed, his voice shaking. “Shh…. it’s all right..I’m here.”

The child squirmed at first in his arms. Kicking and crying, calling out for his mother until Jaxson began to hum. A deep, soothing sound that vibrated from his chest as the man slowly sank to his knees. He hummed an old song he used to sing to Ethren when they were kids. During nights where their parents were gone, during nights where they were alone. 

Slowly, the tears stopped. Those teal blue eyes focused directly on Jaxson. Filled with all the endless wisdom and innocence of the world… and then his chubby little fingers wrapped around Jaxson’s. 

Jaxson grit his teeth and he held the child close to his chest, pressing his lips into dark hair. “It’ll be okay,” he whispers, his voice low and hoarse. “I’m here...” he glanced up. He spotted the letters strung across the wall and his heart twisted violently. “...Alaire. I’ll keep you safe...I promise.”

**2013 - 18 Years Old**

The sky rumbled with thunder as the young wizard picked his way down the rainy London streets. His tired eyes peered out from beneath the hood of his jacket. He was blended in perfectly among the waves upon waves of muggles, and no one noticed the single mage within their midst. They were too busy going who knows where to do who knows what. 

The city was an absolute maze late at night. He shouldered into a man who growled at him and he hung his head, murmuring, ‘sorry,’ under his breath and swiftly cut through the crowds, taxis splashing narby and cars honking at one another. 

He had no idea where to find her. First he’d started where he’d been found. In a quiet little cottage on Elm Street. His investigation had taken him all over the country and now, here he was in the biggest city in Britain completely lost. He stops someone. “Excuse me,” he says. “Have you seen a woman? Brown hair, a tuft of blonde-”

“Out of my way, brat,” grunts the man, pushing past roughly. Alaire stumbled back a few steps into the mud and sighed, fixing his jacket.

This was going to take forever. 

His iphone vibrated in his pocket. The mage heaved a sigh, drawing it out and brought it to his ear. “What.”

 _“What?!”_ Shouted the voice of his uncle on the other end. “ _The hell do you mean what?! Where are you? I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”_

“Uh….” He flinched. “....London?”

There was silence on the other end. _“London.”_ Jaxson’s voice in low. _“Why….are you in London.”_

“I have to find her.”

He heard the sigh from the other end. He could almost imagine Jaxson pacing their small living room, running his fingers through tangled auburn hair. _“Alaire,”_ he finally said. _“I know you want to find her, but you should have told me. I would have helped you, I would have been there for you….”_

“I know.” Alaire breathed, pushing back the annoying tuft of blonde hair that constantly hung in his face. The air felt humid and heavy… it was about to rain. “This is something I have to do on my own. Please.”

Silence. For a second, he thought Jaxson might have left, before there was another long, defeated sigh. _“....guess I couldn’t expect for you to just stay ignorant forever,”_ he said. “ _You have your dad’s stubbornness.”_ Somehow, that made Alaire feel happy. _“All right. Do what you need to do, champ. Just come home when you’re done and just…. Be careful. Have your inhaler?”_

“Yup.”

_“Got your wand?”_

He thumbed his pine wood wand. “Yeah, Jax. I got it right here.”

A breath of relief. _“All right. Call me if you need anything.”_

“I will.” He pauses. “Thanks, Jax. Love you.”

_“Love you, too. I’m...sorry about before. I shouldn’t have kept this from you.”_

“It’s okay. Be home soon.”

He slid his thumb over the ‘end call’ just as it started to rain. Fat droplets that pounded against his clothes and he glowered up at the sky, squinting into the rain. He glanced around. No one was looking. He drew his wand inside his coat, giving it a wave and a shield was conjured over him, deflecting the rain and he started back into the streets. 

He appreciated that Jax was finally letting him leave. Their argument was still fresh in his mind….being told that his mother wasn’t actually dead. That she was still out there, alive somewhere. 

_“I was only trying to protect you!”_ Jaxson had roared. 

_“By lying to me?! By making me think my mom was dead?! You were trying to protect yourself!”_ Alaire had shouted back. The fight had ended up with most of the picture rames blasted into shards of glass and Alaire stealing Ethren’s bike and tearing into the dark to find his mother.

He wasn’t even sure what he’d find. She used to be a death eater, after all. Would she attack him? It was always a possibility. Would she want him? Probably not. If she did, she would have tried to find him. Grace Winger had begged for him to just leave it be. To just ignore her, and take solace in the family that he already had. The family that loved him.

But she didn’t understand…. None of them understood. He had to do this, or it would haunt him until the day he died. 

The rain fell harder and harder until Alaire finally found shelter in an ally. He was soaked to the bone, shivering and pulled his coat closer around him, brown hair sticking to his forehead and he shuddered. How was he going to do this…

...unless..

He drew his wand. He turned it over, hesitating. Maybe…. Maybe it could work. He closed his eyes, drawing up a memory. He looked past the years of taunting during school. Looked past the anger and frustration of having never known his parents. Past the grief and uncertainty…. 

He saw Jaxson. His uncle’s face, framed by christmas lights. And he saw the picture being pushed into his hand when he was eleven years old, framed by elder wood - made from the wand of his father and inside - a picture. A picture of his parents, young and full of life. Ethren smiling, an arm around Merula’s waist and kissing her cheek while she leaned away. Both of them trying not to laugh. 

When they were happy.

 _“Expecto patronum.”_ The words eased out of him in a whisper. Silver light bloomed at the tip of his wand. The darkness of the ally was glowing as it took form, hooves knocking against the ground, skeletal wings stretching outwards and the thestral tossed its head, watching Alaire expectantly.

He swallowed. “I need you to find her,” he whispers. “Please.”

He couldn’t tell if it heard him or not. The silver thestral regarded him for a moment before it took flight, wings flapping as it took off into the sky, a silver glow of light in the darkness of the storm that was tearing across the streets.

He took off in a sprint after it. 

Running through the rain, his arms pumped at his sides, hardly paying mind to the taxis and cars that nearly slammed into him, muggles honking and shaking their fists. His boots splashed through puddles of mud and rain, tearing around a corner. It was flying fast through the streets, unseen by the muggles who were simply trying their best to get out of this storm. 

He was afraid he’d lose it. His legs shook with exhaustion, wand still gripped tight in his hand and was about to give up - when the thestral suddenly lowered down from the sky. It tucked in its wings and dove straight down - and disappeared into the back of a woman standing at the corner of a lonely street. 

She was waiting for a taxi. Small and hunched, a cloak went down to her ankles, hood pulled over her head. There was about twenty feet of space between them, and yet it was like space and time itself divided them. Alaire felt like if he took one more step, he might fall into a void.

He stared at the back of her head. Finally, he swallowed, taking a step forward. 

“...Merula Snyde?”

The form stiffened. The woman’s voice was raspy, low. “What?”

Alaire took a shaky breath. “I’m looking for a Merula Snyde. I’m trying to find-”

“Don’t know her. Sorry, kid.” A taxi was approaching. She put out her hand, catching his attention.

“No! Wait, don’t go, I-” 

“I already said _scram_!” The woman snapped and Alaire grit his teeth, taking one final step forward. “I don’t know any Snyde. Now leave me be.” She was climbing into the taxi.

Fear seized Alaire’s heart. He grit his teeth and stumbled forward. _“Mom!”_

Lightning charged across the sky, splitting through the heavy silence that fell over the street. She had one foot up into the taxi. And slowly, she turned. 

She looked so different from his picture. Short brown hair with a tuft of blonde was long and tangled, down to her waist and streaked with grey. Her lavender eyes held great bags beneath them, her features skeletal and pale. 

But it was her…it was definitely her. 

His mother.

She stared at him, not even noticing when the taxi drove off. Not noticing the rain that was pounding against her face as she slowly drew her hood down. Her eyes were wide in shock. Her lips were parted and one stumbling step after another drew her closer to Alaire. 

“It can’t be..” her voice is frail, as though it might shatter. Her legs trembled, and he was afraid for a moment that she might fall over. When she finally reached him, he instinctively reached out, grabbing the woman’s arms before she might topple into the mud. 

Her lavender eyes searched him, frozen still. 

Merula’s hands reached out and held his face. Her touch was gentle. A thumb drew over his cheek, soaking wet with rain and his weeping. Her eyes were filled with tears, her voice soft and fragile. A voice he heard once so long ago that it might have been a dream. A voice he never thought he’d hear again.

“You have your father’s eyes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of you might have noticed the change of the rating from M to E. There will be one final chapter - a bonus chapter, taking place the night Ethren and Merula spent together. I'm sure you can guess what it will be about. But if that's not your cup of tea, you can just stop here because this is technically the end of the story. So glad you all liked it, and thank you all so much for motivating me to continue!  
> If you want more content of Ethren, you can find more here on my tumblr.  
> http://hogwartsmysterystory.tumblr.com


	6. Bonus Chapter (nsfw warning)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that’s the end! Thank you everyone!

**1996 - 23 Years Old**

Her whisper stirred the silence. “Part of me didn’t… want to know.”

They were so close. Somehow, his back had ended up against the wall. No light except for the flickering candle and the streaks of lightning outside. No sounds, except for that of his breath. He was so sure she could hear his heart hammering against his chest. He couldn’t see them, but he knew they were there, the freckles on her nose, the mole on her neck, the birthmark on her shoulder.

His hands cupped Merula’s face. Violet eyes flicked up to his, thumb drawing against her cheek. “I’m glad I’m not dead too,” he whispered.

She surged forward, lips pressing into his as she knocked against him. His spine was pressed to the wall, closing his eyes as he pulled the girl into him. He could feel her fingers curving into locks of caramel hair.

They’ve kissed before. Loads of times. Sometimes in lust. Sometimes innocent kisses back at school. But as he felt her hands roam over his shoulders, as his lips met their mark along her neck, biting at pale skin - it was immediately apparent that this was something else. Something new.

Lightning cracked outside and the muscles in his arms rippled as he pulled her around, pushing her flush against the wall. She didn’t mind. Nor did she when he grasped her thighs, lifting her up onto his waist and pressing her back, her hair splayed. Her nails dug into his skin as she grasped his face, kissing him hard.

Teeth clashed together. He could feel the way her claw like nails drew down his cheeks leaving rivulets. “Damn,” he mutters, voice pushing out in a whisper. “When did you become so violent.”

He could feel her purr against him in a chuckle. “Trust me,” she murmurs, rolling her hips forward. Heat pooled in his stomach. “You haven’t seen violent yet.”

A challenge. A challenge that he immediately had to meet. Their tongues clashed and Ethren pushed himself off of the wall, stumbling over towards the bed and dropping her onto her back. She laughed - _laughed. He hasn’t heard a laugh in ages._ \- as her back hit the bed, bouncing a bit, she hooked her thighs around Ethren’s hips and yanked. With a grunt, he was tumbling down beside her and… smiling.

Gods, he missed her. Even after just a single kiss, a single flush of bodies pressed together it was like years of uncertainty and bitterness washed away. He could scarcely feel his exhaustion as their lips met again, and he felt her hands beginning to draw under the back of his shirt, the sharp curve of her fingers dragging across his skin. Could scarcely feel his grief at having lost another Order member as he drew his knee up between her thighs and felt her husky breath.

“Merula,” he whispers, his breath warm as he noses against her neck. Her answer was a shudder, legs around his hips as she rolled upwards. She tugged on his shirt. No other words were needed. He sat up, straddling the woman as he drew off his shirt, tearing it to the side.

Before he went in to kiss her again - she put out her hands, fingertips catching his chest. Her eyes roamed down his torso, fingers trailing along his abdomen. In the service of the order, he’d grown far more athletic, torso cut with muscle and yet… it was marred.

Scars now decorated his skin. The marks of powerful, dangerous curses. The mark of a crucio in the center of his diaphragm, A dagger’s bite down his side.

“What have you been doing,” she murmurs. Black nails travel along the indent of his scars, lavender eyes reaching his.

“Fighting war.” He lowered. She didn’t resist him this time. Her mouth opened for him, granting him entrance as his hands drew to the bottom of her shirt. Their lips parted for a moment as it was drawn over her head. Even a moment was too long. As soon as it was tossed to the side, they were crashing together again, arms hugging around one another. His knee was between her legs and the way she ground against him has his breath pushing out in a gasp.

The tent of his jeans rolled against her. Short, ragged breaths filling the silence, and he could feel the sting of nails raking down his back. Pants were the next to come off. They shimmied out of their jeans, throwing them to the side and as soon as there was no fabric separating them save for undergarments - Ethren gave an ‘oof!’ as she threw her weight forward, rolling up on top of him. His hands instinctively went to hold her hips, but it seems she had other ideas.  
She would her fingers with his, drawing them slowly over his head, pinning them to the bed. They were breathing hard. Merula… her eyes were savage. Like a wolf about to go in for the kill. A chuckle vibrated in his chest as he rocked his hips forward teasingly.

“So is this the part where you cast incarcerous on me and do as you wish?” he purrs, teal eyes half lidded.

Trusting him to obey, she left his hands to draw her nails up his abdomen once more. Their ascent was a deliberate crawl, grazing against his muscles and as her lips touched his skin, he shuddered. “Don’t tempt me,” she murmurs, biting bruises into his tanned skin.

Their underwear was the last to come off. And finally - he felt his length against her pulsing core. He let his head dip back and sink into the pillows. A sharp breath dragged from his lungs, caramel hair fanned out over his face. He rocked his hips upwards, whispering her name, voice husky and low. She nipped his chest once more before she was sitting up, nails digging into his hips - and rocked. Slow, deliberate thrusts that had both of them drawing ragged breaths. They were so close. Not even an inch of space separated them. At this point, Ethren didn’t know which limb belonged to who. All he knew was that his heart was ready to bust out of his chest, forehead slick with sweat and his caramel hair damp as he peppered her jaw and neck with bruising kisses.

“You know,” Ethren whispers, his hands resting on her hips. “I always imagined myself on top.”

“You and I both know I’m the alpha in this relationship.” She swallowed any further protests, smashing their lips together. He gasps into her mouth as he feels her fingers drawing down his length. Nails that curve along sensitive veins, gliding over his tip.

With one hand around her waist, pulling her closer, the other rakes through her long, dark hair, catching on curls. He could feel her moan vibrating into his mouth, both of them shuddering as she lines him up with her entrance. And with one smooth thrust - sank inside her.

Their lips broke apart as she gasped, her fingers sinking into Ethren’s shoulders so tightly he thought he might bleed. And for a moment… there was stillness. Silence. Their eyes met and the distance between their lips was as vast as time and space itself. The world crumbled around them until it was just Ethren and Merula. Nothing else mattered.

Affection surged through him. Tears pricked at his eyes as he pressed his lips to hers, drawing his arms around her in a loving embrace. “When this war is over,” he utters, his voice barely above a whisper. “Find me. Let’s start over…”

She could scarcely find her voice amidst their desperate kisses. And whens he did… He could have sworn her voice was sad. “Nothing is ever that easy, whitecross.”  
“Why,” he hisses. “Why can’t it be.”  
“Because we don’t get a happy ending.”  
No. He’d show her it could be easy. He’d show her that not everything had to be war… especially not them.

He didn’t give her a moment to doubt. Didn’t give her a moment to think. His lips were on hers again, pulling her tighter, closer as he thrust his hips upwards, swallowing the curse she uttered into his mouth.

Merula made love like her life depended on it. Rough, volatile and commanding. She was in charge, and she’d make sure he knew it. Her teeth were like fangs, nails drawing red rivulets into his back. Ethren… he made love like a man who was blinded with adoration. Every motion sought to make her feel good. As he massaged her lips until they were swollen and drew his hands along her hips. He pulled her close, their legs twining together, molten lava pooling in his abdomen.

Stars shattered over his vision as they finished with a clap of thunder that shook the house.

————————

Damn she was rough. His body felt sore as he stretched out beside his lover, drawing his hands back to caress them along his back. He could actually feel where her nails had torn through his skin. It… almost made him laugh as he smiled at her fondly. She was asleep, sprawled out next to him. An utter mess. Her hair was disheveled and twisted into knots. Her cheeks were still flushed, bruises along her neck and her hips.

She looked fucking beautiful.

_Would you kill for me,_ she had asked. He wasn’t able to answer before. He never had the chance… and in the moment, he didn’t know. Now… now he had an answer for her.

He drew her hair away to kiss her cheek, lips gentle and loving.

Ethren wouldn’t kill for her.

He’d die for her.


End file.
